


Best of Both Worlds

by cjmarlowe



Series: Life Is Waiting For You [14]
Category: Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: AU, F/M, Pegging, Semi-Public Sex, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmarlowe/pseuds/cjmarlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris is way outside his comfort zone in front of the camera, and he's not entirely sure how he got there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best of Both Worlds

On the second day of his junior year, Kris meets a girl. All summer—when he was actually actively trying to date—he didn't meet anyone at all, not even for one date, and on the second day of his junior year he's picked up on the sidewalk outside of the fine arts building.

It just figures.

"You're perfect," she says, running her hands over his head. His hair's shorter than it's ever been, buzzed and all but shaved, but it's never prompted quite that reaction before. "You have to come with me."

"As long as it's not to perform illegal experiments," he says, even as he's already following because with an approach like that he kind of wants to see where it goes.

"Not illegal ones," she says, her tone somehow a mix of both lightness and gravity which Kris also finds intriguing. "But who wouldn't want to be experimental? Life is so much more interesting that way."

It's a hard sentiment for Kris to disagree with, even though he doesn't feel like he's so much a part of this conversation as swept away in the moment. "Where are we going?"

"This way," she says, leading him over a grassy rise between a student residence and the fine arts building. "I've commandeered a classroom."

"Commandeered?"

"Borrowed a key," she says, and when she turns her head and smiles at him it's both mischievous and genuine. She's delighting in the moment, and giving it great significance at once. "You have exactly what I'm looking for."

Kris doesn't think she's talking about the books in the backpack over one shoulder or the t-shirt he's wearing today, clean but ragged around the edges, an old favorite from high school that he can't bear to give up.

"How flexible are you?"

"You mean...physically?" says Kris, following her through a set of seldom-used double doors that stick a little at the hinges.

"Ideologically," she says, "but physically flexible is definitely a plus."

"I do all right, I guess," says Kris, trying to answer both questions with that vague response. "I'm pretty open." Again, that answers both. To an extent. "I guess it depends on what we're talking about."

"You'll have to see," she says, and Kris supposes he will, in a moment. They're on a somewhat unstoppable trajectory now, and from the sounds ahead of him in the corridor they're getting close. "It's a project."

"An art project?"

"Are there any other kind?" she says. "You aren't afraid of cameras, are you?"

"Cameras? No," says Kris. "This isn't any kind of nude thing, is it?"

"Just the opposite," she says, "I'm not interested in what you look like with your clothes off." Kris kind of smiles to hear that, but he also smiles when she adds, "In front of the cameras."

Kris coughs politely and just nods and silently agrees. In front of the cameras is an even bigger no than in public. He can be coerced in public, with the right kind of merciless provocation (or a hot day on the beach will work too), but not in front of the cameras.

The pieces are adding up to modeling something, which is just kind of baffling because Kris knows that some people think he's kind of cute but he's not the kind of face, or body, or height, that _models_. But then none of this encounter seems in any way typical. Finally she opens a door and ushers him inside.

"Welcome to my parlor!"

"Said the spider to the fly," murmurs Kris as he looks around the madness. It's becoming increasingly clear that nobody's going to sit him down and explain in clear terms and small words just what's going on in here. If it's a student project, it's an extremely ambitious one.

She doesn't introduce the guy that comes up to kiss her on the cheek when they arrive, but that's not surprising since she hasn't even introduced herself yet.

"You found us a small man!" he says. Kris frowns. "He's perfect."

"I told you," she says, taking Kris by the arm. "Perfect."

"Right, perfect," says Kris, then they're both leading him away and he feels a little bit—no, a lot—like he's just fallen down the rabbit hole.

They stop in front of a rack of clothes, or what he assumes are clothes, and hopes that the gold Speedo on the end isn't what they're looking for.

"I don't know your name," says Kris finally, and she tilts her head to the side like she has to think about it. Kris didn't think it was a difficult question. Technically, it's not a question at all.

"Stefani," she says after a moment.

"I'm Kris," he says, and he feels like it's in that moment of introduction that he really commits himself to this...whatever it is. Like a circus in a bottle. The kind of thing you feel like you'll always regret if you don't go with it and see where it leads you.

"Well, Kris, we're going to put you in this," she says, and holds up the suit that the guy has just handed to her. The _suit_ , which is such a huge relief that Kris actually sighs audibly. This is so not how he expected his afternoon to go.

"This will fit you perfectly," he says, and of course it's not just any suit, it's a strange metallic material and jeweled, but it's going to cover him and that's the important thing. "Just get that on and we'll get you in front of the camera."

"I don't really act," says Kris uncertainly.

"You don't need to act," says Stefani, "you just need to do everything I say when I say it and exactly as I say it. Unless you want to do something else. I support your freedom of expression."

"We should go with the ordering me around," says Kris. When it comes to being in front of the camera, anyway. He's willing to give it a shot, but only if he gets some serious direction because this is way outside his comfort zone. "That still sounds like acting."

"It's just moving," she says, and looks him up and down, and finally figures out what the problem is and why Kris isn't dressed yet. "There's a screen over by the wall you can change behind."

"Thank you," says Kris, and since that makes it clear he's meant to change _now_ he locates the screen and scurries off. That's really the only way to describe it. He scurries.

The suit fits him almost perfectly, once he figures out how to get it on exactly—Kris isn't great with regular suits without his mother's help, let alone one that's bedazzled and bejeweled—but he figures he managed all right when she looks him up and down and nods her head. Of course, while he's been changing she's completely changed her outfit too, into something that looks vaguely like a fitted spacesuit, with a silver wig to match.

An outfit matched exactly by the guy who'd greeted them at the door.

No one else in the room—and there were a lot of people in the room—seemed to even bat an eye at Kris's presence, and Kris had to wonder just how many other passers-by had been conscripted into art project service.

"This is all...kind of overwhelming," he says finally.

"We did everything for this," she says. "Costumes, music, choreography, set design, the whole thing. Completely our vision."

"And casting," says Kris with a little smile.

"Naturally, we wanted all the right people," she says, "and sometimes you find them in the most unexpected places. Are you ready to do this?"

"Not even remotely," says Kris.

"Fantastic," she says, "right over here, in front of this backdrop."

The backdrop is a nebula, maybe, or a galaxy. Kris has always had a really hard time telling the difference, not that he's ever really been forced to in any kind of life or death or even grading situation. He doesn't really know what to do with himself, but she makes him move like a wave, and like a beam of light, and like a leaf, and like a rolling stone, until Kris is so mixed around he doesn't even know what he's doing anymore and just _moves_. And that's when she gets what she's looking for, whatever that is. Kris still has no idea.

"We're doing desire now," she says, like that means anything to him.

"Okay," he says, running with it.

That's when she puts her arm around her male counterpart, matching outfits right down the hair and the star-shaped hats on their heads. Kris looks from one to the other and wonders if he's supposed to be doing something. Someone will probably tell him if he is.

"You'll have to choose."

"Me?" says Kris. "Right now?"

"The viewer," she clarifies. "The general you. Though right now, as the viewer, I suppose it is your choice."

"I guess it is," agrees Kris, and looks from one to the other again with a little smile on his face.

"Well?" she says a moment later, giving her mirror image a kiss on the cheek before turning back to him.

"Well?"

"All else being equal, which one of us do you desire?"

Kris ducks his head and shrugs and gets a knowing smile in return. His answer, far from being as ambiguous as it could have been taken, seems to be exactly what she's looking for.

"Interesting," she says, and takes the hat off.

"So...do you still need me?" says Kris. "Or am I done?"

"I got exactly what I was looking for out of you," she says. "I have a good feeling about people. I knew you'd be perfect."

"Well, I'm glad," says Kris, giving her a crooked smile, and maybe he's finally getting the hang of this thing, right when it's time for him to go. "I can use the screen again?" He asks because it looks like nobody else is the slightest bit concerned about modesty when it comes to changing their costumes.

"You know where it is," she says, and Kris's gaze lingers on her and her friend for a moment before he finally turns and goes. He's a little reluctant to leave now, actually. He feels like he hasn't entirely seen this play out yet.

A few moments later, when Stefani joins him behind the screen, he's not entirely surprised.

"How would you feel about the best of both worlds?" she says as she helps him out of the suit, hanging it up neatly beside them and smoothing out the wrinkles, both real and imaginary, with her hand.

"That depends," says Kris, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You like it both ways?" she says, speaking closer to his ear now. "I can give that to you."

Kris has to admit he's intrigued. If there's one thing he's been since the moment he met her, it's intrigued.

"You mean...if you mean on camera, I'm out," he says, though.

"Some things are meant to be shared," she says, "and some things are not. This is definitely one of the latter."

"Shared in a different way, anyway," he says, and...why not? Why not go for it? He's interested and she's interested and in the middle of all of this madness it suddenly seems to be the one thing that makes sense.

It's funny how all of this is easier for him than everything that came before. This, he knows.

"Here?" he says, and she peers around the screen and then unfolds a couple more segments so that no one can walk around and find them accidentally. Here, apparently.

"Do you even have...?"

"I'm stuffing," she says, and Kris really should've noticed that before now, or maybe in the back of his mind he did but thought it was a pair of socks or something. Something quick and easy that would allow their 'desire' outfits to match more perfectly. "Not hard, of course, but the harness is the same."

So...he's really doing this. Here and now. Kris licks his lips and tries to tell if anyone is nearby without actually peering conspicuously around the tall screens, and then nods at her. He's going to have rug burns when they're done. He doesn't care.

She doesn't let him help her take her outfit off, taking care of it piece by piece and hanging it up next to his until she's down to her bra, a surprisingly practical one, and the harness. No one in real life would be carrying a dildo in their purse, but something about this just isn't real life, not life as he knows it, and she swaps out the soft packer for the dildo before Kris can even sort out how the harness works.

He thinks this is just going to be a "bend over and take it" situation, which he'd be fine with all things considered, but she's surprisingly sweet when she first touches him, smoothes her hands over his shoulders and arms, holds both his hands for a moment as they look one another over and then leans in to kiss at his jaw and his throat, to caress over his nipples.

Kris touches her through her bra, then almost effortlessly unhooks it and slides it off her arms so that he can touch her beneath it, cup her breasts, touch and tongue at her nipples. Access between her legs is complicated right now, but Kris does what he can with what he can reach, and it's all just slower and more tender than he was expecting.

Until she leans in and presses something into his hand and whispers, "Finger yourself," in his ear.

Actually, that's still pretty tender, just unexpected. The thing in his hand is a one-use packet of lube, and Kris knows exactly what to do with it, wrapping a leg around her to give himself better access. Her fake cock presses against his stomach, and as he pushes his own fingers inside himself she bites his earlobe.

He doesn't take his time with this, because the moment she whispered in his ear he knew it was on now, that the time to play around had passed. He always knew he was going to end up on his hands and knees, so it's not a surprise that as soon as he lowers his leg she's turning him around and pushing him down towards the ground. Kris grabs his t-shirt to bite down on, because he might be willing to do this here, might not have even had to think about it too hard once he knew they couldn't be seen, but he doesn't want his noises to draw any attention to them either.

She's done this before. He can tell the moment she pushes inside him that she's done this before, she knows just how much pressure she needs, what angle to enter him at and how to hold and brace herself to do it. _She knows what she's doing here_ , and that kind of turns Kris on even more. As if he's not already turned on after fingering himself and having someone tell him what to do.

She doesn't ask him any questions once she's in, just lays her hand on Kris's back and feels for any reluctance, any hesitation, then starts thrusting inside him. It's different from anything he's had before, different from the real thing, different from doing himself. The rhythm is different, and the strength is different, but she's giving it to him hard and slow and Kris is _all about that_.

" _Yes_ ," he says fervently before stuffing the shirt in his mouth so he doesn't make any other unfortunate noises.

She grabs hold of his hips and thrusts a little harder, gives herself a little more leverage, then reaches around and curls her hand around his cock and strokes him as she thrusts. The reacharound pretty much does it for him, Kris choking back a cry and then pulling the t-shirt out of his mouth and thrusting it beneath himself to catch his come.

It occurs to him that he doesn't have anything else to wear only after he does it. At which point he really couldn't care less because she's deep inside him and he's coming and nothing else really matters.

He's aware of her pulling out, but he doesn't really feeling like moving yet, resting most of his weight on his elbows and catching his breath. When he finally turns his head and looks, she's already got the dildo in a baggy going back in her purse and her bra is on.

"Do you need...?" he says, and isn't sure what he's offering.

"Believe me," she says, with a smile that seems more open and genuine than anything he's seen from her before, "you've already given me everything I need."

"Okay," he says, and smiles and takes her at her word, hanging his head again and just breathing for a little longer until he feels ready to move. When he looks again she's already half dressed and holding out a plain black t-shirt to him. Well, metallic black, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Thanks," he says. "I wasn't really thinking straight."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she says as Kris starts to put the rest of his clothes back on again. "So, was it what I promised?"

"Best of both worlds?" says Kris, and thinks of her hips and her soft breasts and the way she fucked him hard and he has to nod his head. "Exactly as advertised."

She smiles at him again, open and brilliant, before she finishes dressing and putting her wig back on and performance mode seems to overtake her again. "There'll be a showing of the final product in a month," she says. "You should come see it."

Kris has no idea if he will or if he won't, or if he'll even ever tell anyone he did this, but he thanks her for the invitation before she kisses him on the cheek one last time and pushes the screen open and slips away from him.

He stuffs his t-shirt in his bag and stretches and figures that this is it, his part here is done. Time to return from wonderland and go back to the rest of his life. He does pause at the door to look over the chaos that's still erupting in the room, and takes a moment to think about...everything. His academic life. His social life. His artistic life. His love life.

It's not that Kris doesn't want to find someone to be with, to really date, but maybe he needs to discover himself a little more first. Maybe once he does that, he won't have to try so hard and when he meets the right person he'll be ready for it. It'll just happen the way it's supposed to. So right then and there, as he finally leaves and walks the corridor back where he started, his world a little rocked but otherwise the same as when he started, he decides to stop actively looking and just let life happen to him for a little while. New experiences have always been a good thing for him and now he welcomes them all with open arms. 


End file.
